


My Father's going to hear about us, Potter.

by mrsworldwide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarrython, Fluff, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Harry Potter - Freeform, Help, M/M, My father will hear about this, One Shot, POV Draco Malfoy, Possible smut, Slytherin Harry Potter, Soft Draco Malfoy, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Sorting Hat, Very fluffy, debut fanfic, drarry fluff, father potters legs are toned af, fluffy drarry, hehe sounds fancy, idk yet, is it pov though?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsworldwide/pseuds/mrsworldwide
Summary: A series of Drarry one-shots. Just one at the moment but I'll update as much as my exams will allow. I would love to hear any suggestions or prompts, but I'll manage on my own (or with a little help from Tumblr, but not to worry, I'm very passionate abut giving credit where credit is due).





	My Father's going to hear about us, Potter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! This isn't quite my first fan fiction, but I tend not to talk about my Dan and Phil ones. So let's not. This is currently a creative outlet for me, a chance for me to discover my own writing quirks, and to try and incorporate some British realness into my writing for the fun of it. I'm planning on making this a dump for all my incomplete ramblings (read; "One-Shots"). Leave me a message if you want, I would be delighted to know if anyone has found me in the depths of Ao3. Thanks a lot!

“I’m sorry, WHAT”  
Harry turned to face Draco, his brow almost furrowed. “Don’t you remember? I mean, I wasn’t as difficult as Neville, but the Sorting Hat didn’t make an instant decision.”  
Draco couldn’t believe this. Thirteen years he’d known Harry Potter and never, not once had Harry bothered to mention that the Sorting Hat considered him for Slytherin. Now Harry was sitting next to him, demanding Draco remember an exchange that had happened in Harry’s head.  
Bloody unbelievable.  
“Potter, you know very well there I had no chance of hearing the Sorting Hat from where I was standing." He grumbled, "What was it exactly that held the Hat back from putting you in Slytherin, anyway?”  
Harry grinned. “You mean besides my bravery, fiery grit and, of course,” he winked “irresistible chivalry?”. A hearty guffaw escaped Draco before he could resist it. “You wish, Potter. There is not a patient bone in your body, and your hotheadedness couldn’t possibly belong in such a cunning and calculated house”.  
“What, you mean Ravenclaw?” Harry shot back.  
“No, you git! Slytherin! The house you never told me you were so close to joining!” Draco spluttered.  
“Malfoy, part of me thinks the Hat was just playing a trick, as soon as I told it ‘not Slytherin’ everything sort of fell into place” the bespectacled boy said morosely.  
It took Draco a moment to process this attack on his house. He felt suddenly affronted, and decided to huff angrily instead of continuing the dispute. As Draco fiercely shuffled away from him, Harry realised he may have crossed a line.  
“Malfoy, I mean Draco, babe, I didn’t mean- I just thought-. I’m really sorry. I didn't think.”  
“No, you didn't” Draco scoffed. “Ever the Gryffindor, Potter, though I suppose it’s better than Slytherin”.  
“That’s not what I meant!” Harry protested. “You know I love you! I love everything, and everything Slytherin about you.” He sighed “I've changed since I was eleven, you know. The magical world was still new to me, I didn't know any better”  
Draco turned around, his resolve wavering at Harry’s words. He could take the apology then, Potter was saying all the right things. Draco considered this, before deciding on a more Malfoy approach.  
“Say that first bit again”  
“What?”  
“Idiot. I said repeat the first thing in that marvellous apology of yours”, Draco emphasised slowly, lingering adequately before the word marvellous, inciting a sarcasm that cloaked his pleased blush.  
“Er… I love everything, and everything about you that... makes you a Slytherin?” Harry repeated.  
Malfoy smirked, unable to help himself. “Incorrect, Potter” he drawled. “What you really said is that you loved everything, and everything Slytherin about me. You great sap”.  
Harry visibly relaxed, the worried edges in his face softening. “Shut up, Malfoy”.  
“A little bit tetchy are we? Struck a nerve, have I, Potter?” Draco was quite enjoying himself now, and Harry seemed to revel in the vanished tension.  
“No Malfoy, I just meant to say that you sounded far too much like Snape for my liking. I might have to take up residence in the guest room until further notice”.  
“Oi! I’m the one doing the sledging, remember? You’re the insensitive boyfriend who needs to comfort his beloved.” Draco huffed indignantly.  
“Oi yourself” Harry muttered, somewhat deterred. “It’s late anyway, Draco, I’m going to bed”. Malfoy’s eyes betrayed a flash of worry before Harry laughed and planted a lingering kiss on his temple. “No guest room, I promise. I was just pulling your wand”  
“Wasn’t bothered anyway” Draco lied, albeit not as smoothly as he considered.  
Harry smiled knowingly, before turning on his heel and trodding upstairs to their bedroom. He blew Draco a kiss, and laughed appreciatively when it was returned with a blush by his lover.  
When Harry was out of sight, Draco grinned to himself.  
“Damn it, Potter, I’m too in love with you for my own good”.  
He sat in silence for a moment, only to have it punctured by a dull thud from upstairs, followed by a fluent thread of curses. His grin widening, Draco picked up his wand and cut it through the air briskly, extinguishing the light in the kitchen. He was not tired, but lying next to Harry, hearing the soft noises of his slumber and brushing the wild hair back from his forehead was greatly appealing to Draco.  
A soft breeze lifted the curtains, which would have been quite nice had it been summer. It was not summer, in fact, and Draco found goosebumps springing up and down his form. “Blast!” He rippled at the chilly offence. “Language, Draco!” Came Potter’s mock haughty voice from the floor above. "Bloody idiot" Draco muttered to himself as he closed the window firmly. Magic was beyond him at the moment, sleepiness had just hit him like a train.  
As he made his way up the stairs, Draco pointed his wand feebly at the chandelier hanging proudly over the coffee table, snuffing out the last few candles. It was one of the few items Draco had insisted on when he and Harry moved in. Potter had his Gryffindor shrine in the corner of their room (which was slowly creeping across the walls, mind you), so Draco could have his splash of grandeur. Fair is fair.  
Trailing up the stairs and gently opening his bedroom door, Draco noted Harry’s unconscious form. Almost as wild and splayed as he was when awake, sleeping Harry was peaceful in a way Draco could not place in their later years at school. The only time Harry could achieve a graceful form was on a broomstick, thus the Quidditch hoops towering over their back garden, dwarfing the surrounding forestry. Changing into a pair of silk pyjamas with token green and silver stripes, Draco peeled back the duvet, slipping under the covers next to Harry. His eyes fluttered closed, and he could feel a wave of drowsiness coming on. Draco heard a soft voice next to him just before he was pulled into slumber.  
“Nice pyjamas, Malfoy. They’d suit me”.


End file.
